The Unsolicited Diagnosis and a Penitent’s Confession

“While I may not possess a medical license, it’s evident to anyone with eyes that you’re suffering from a severe illness. However, I regret to inform you of some rather unwelcome news. The Health Department’s human elimination quota for this month has already been met, and all targets have been accomplished. Should you wish to seek medical attention independently, you won’t be able to secure an appointment for the time being.

If you’re intent on following in your predecessors’ footsteps, your only option is to voluntarily surrender to the Department of True Sight. Yet, observing your thieving heart and cowardly spirit, I doubt a seasoned scoundrel like you would ever dare attempt such a bold move. Therefore, given your current condition, my advice is to simply await next month’s routine physical examination. Rest assured, I, your esteemed self, will personally make time to reserve a bouquet of white chrysanthemums from Earth, specifically for your farewell.”

Upon returning to her dorm, Is, predictably, launched into a tirade against Lan Sen. Her words, laced with the unscrupulous doctor’s implied message of “You’re beyond saving; just wait for death,” echoed through the room.

In that moment, the sweet and amiable image of the AI girl Lan Sen had conjured in his mind was utterly shattered by the harsh reality. This sudden disillusionment led Lan Sen to question everything. Why did his brain instinctively diminish all negative impressions of Is, preserving only the favorable ones?

‘Could this be the idol effect at play?’

“Hmph, no reply? Could it be that I’ve hit a nerve, leaving you feeling guilty? Come on, spill it! What other inconveniently unhealthy thoughts are you harboring? Let me hear your reasons for retching. Kidney deficiency? Depression? Or perhaps nightmares? Out with it, let me have a laugh. I promise I won’t tell anyone else.”

‘Guilty, my foot! You’ve been incessantly blabbering for half an hour, never once giving me a chance to speak.’

Lan Sen, biting his lip in exasperation, suppressed his discomfort and the urge to retort, instead replenishing himself with a 2L bottle of Blood Gel.

He was here to seek solutions from Is, not for her to invent new problems for him. He needed to remain calm, avoid anger, and absolutely refrain from attempting to reason with this AI.

Engaging in a debate with this seemingly righteous AI had only one outcome: being thoroughly convinced and outmaneuvered by her rigorous logic and abundant examples. No human could ever hope to win a verbal spar against Is.

Recalling his predecessors who had fallen victim to Is’s verbal barrages, Lan Sen casually tossed the silver-white canister, now empty of Blood Gel, into the recycling bin and settled onto the edge of his bed.

Then, bowing his head, hands clasped above his thighs, he slowly took a deep breath and began to recount his story, along with the unsettling nightmares that plagued him, adopting the solemn posture of a penitent entering a confessional.

After enduring those disturbingly vivid nightmares, Lan Sen shed his feigned loyalty, his fabricated dignity, and his arrogant facade. For some inexplicable reason, a thought bloomed in his mind: rather than merely existing within a web of lies and pretense, it would be better to be truthful, to confide his innermost thoughts to those closest to him. Even if this honesty led to his downfall, it would be preferable to dying an unwitting victim of someone else’s machinations.

His actions weren’t necessarily driven by a search for answers or solace. Sometimes, simply unburdening oneself of accumulated frustrations could bring a profound sense of relief.

Surprisingly, during Lan Sen’s candid storytelling, Is did not interrupt; instead, she thoughtfully shielded some of the surveillance and listening devices within the employee dorm room.

As Lan Sen delved deeper into his narrative, articulating his grievances against the Heart of the Galaxy with increasing sincerity, a shimmering silver figure quietly materialized beside him.

Controlling several holographic projection devices, white particles of light descended from above, drifting like snowflakes around the circular table laden with supplies.

As several beams of light converged, the particles coalesced into the lifelike form of a young girl.

Dressed in a light black hoodie, the girl sat unceremoniously on the table, hands tucked into her pockets, rhythmically swinging her legs.

A cascade of sleek, silver-white hair spilled from beneath her hood, shimmering with a silvery starlight that imbued her with a dreamlike aura. The zipper of her hoodie was slightly undone, revealing a glimpse of white innerwear. Far from concealing her youthful charm, this short garment allowed her alluring, pale stomach to peek out from beneath the fabric’s folds, hinting at a playful allure.

Her lower half was adorned in a black micro-skirt, adorned with pink lace and cinched with a belt, yet still retaining a somewhat loose fit. Beneath the soft fabric, ample expanses of fair skin were exposed. Black garter rings encircling her upper thighs further accentuated the firm, powerful lines of her beautiful legs.

The girl, seated indelicately, continuously swayed her pale, exposed legs, utterly unconcerned with the possibility of revealing too much. After all, this was merely a holographic projection, possessing only an outer form and no true substance.

Even if someone were directly facing her at that moment, they wouldn’t be able to discern the color of her underwear. She would simply filter out any angles that might compromise her modesty. Deliberate attempts to observe from such angles would only reveal “Is.zip,” or, from the most extreme perspectives, a genuine two-dimensional paper cutout.

For this very reason, the girl had not bothered to model any underwear. It could be said that her entire image perpetually teetered on the brink of exposure, and she thoroughly relished this sensation of something imaginable yet unseen and untouchable.

This slender, cool, and somewhat rebellious girl, with her captivating figure, was none other than the virtual avatar meticulously crafted by Is.

At this moment, a subtle, untamed smile played upon Is’s lips. As she listened to Lan Sen’s complaints, she idly manipulated a virtual ball of yarn, condensed from light, in her hands, even wrapping it around her black stockings to create distinct indentations.

The realism of the latest generation of holographic imagery greatly pleased her. It was indeed a testament to the techniques she had learned from the Alliance.

Only when Lan Sen had finally poured out his entire story, leaning back on a cushion and gasping for breath, did Is snap out of her preoccupation with the ball of yarn.

In truth, it wasn’t quite ‘snapping out of it.’ As a swarm intelligence, she possessed formidable multi-threaded processing capabilities. Her primary computing power remained focused on the media and network centers of the Larry Ring Station. The portion currently dedicated to amusing herself with Lan Sen comprised less than one-millionth of her total processing capacity.

“I’ve thoroughly enjoyed your story. In essence, you’ve encountered significant trouble: your body is malfunctioning, your mind is somewhat muddled, and your memories are jumbled. Now, fearing elimination, you’re hesitant to report to the Health Department, and thus you’ve come to seek my assistance, is that correct?”

Is lightly tossed the ball of yarn from her hand, and a sphere of white light struck the wall, vanishing without a trace. Then, she hopped off the table, patted her backside, and with hands on her hips, swaggered over to Lan Sen, scrutinizing the troublesome individual who so often provided her with amusement.

Lan Sen rolled his eyes at Is, then nodded.

“So, how exactly do you expect me, your esteemed self, to help you? Let me be clear: I absolutely refuse any task that would negatively impact my performance. And don’t even think about causing trouble or asking me to go up against the higher-ups or anything of that sort. Otherwise, why do you think I’d be stuck on the moon?”